


Predatory Advances

by wyntirrose



Series: Trials and Blessings [20]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-18
Updated: 2008-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntirrose/pseuds/wyntirrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a mech just needs some surprise intimacy after a bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Predatory Advances

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This was written in response to a prompt over at the Random Pairings Generator (Prowl/Ratchet - Predatory) . As always, special thanks to bittereloquence for the help and support.

Ratchet looked up from the examination table he was cleaning and peered into the dark corners of the med bay. There it was again. That noise. It was almost like a scrape, but it was gone so fast that he couldn’t place it or locate it. Shrugging, he turned back to his work.

He never saw Prowl slip out of his office, never heard him walk up behind him. But he most certainly did feel it when the strategist ran his fingers down his back and over his aft. Ratchet spun, only to be pressed back against the examination table, pinned down to the surface by a pair of white hands.

“Prowl what are you –hmph.” His protest was smothered as Prowl kissed him passionately.

Without breaking the kiss, Prowl climbed atop the table and straddled Ratchet’s waist. As he attacked Ratchet’s mouth, drawing moans and whimpers from the medic’s vocalizer, he ran his hands down Ratchet’s arms and slowly guided his hands above his head. With a delicate touch, he manipulated those red digits, causing Ratchet to pull away with a moaning gasp.

“Hmmm … Prowl ….! What are you doing?”

Ratchet tossed his head as Prowl leaned in and flicked his glossa against Ratchet’s chevron.

“Come now,” Prowl replied wickedly. “I would think it would be obvious.”

“Not what I meant-” Once again Ratchet’s protest was cut off with a gasp as he felt the binders close around his wrists, chaining him to the examining table.

“Now lay back and relax,” Prowl whispered into Ratchet’s audio. “I am taking charge tonight.”

“Prowl,” Ratchet protested, “I’m at work!”

“No one is going to come in at this hour,” Prowl replied in a low voice. “Besides, I made sure to lock the door and we will receive more than adequate warning if either of us needed.”

“Yeah but-” Ratchet’s protest was cut off as Prowl attacked his mouth again.

He ran his hands down Ratchet’s chest, dipping into transformation seams and joints, teasing Ratchet’s body mercilessly.

Ratchet arched up against Prowl as the strategist hit a particularly sensitive bundle of wires. He pulled against the binders, but these had been designed to hold mechs like the Lamborghini twins, and Ratchet didn’t have nearly enough strength to escape from them. He squirmed in arousal as Prowl moved down his body, playing with the most sensitive areas of his armour, stroking his energy field and reducing him to a writhing, moaning pile on the table.

Prowl pressed himself against Ratchet’s body, cycling his energy field until his came into perfect synch with the medic’s.

“Overload for me,” he growled sensually into Ratchet’s audio.

That voice - that order - was enough to send Ratchet over the edge and the flaring of his field brought Prowl along with him. Energy filled the room, crackling over the frames of both mechs and into the examination table. Ratchet threw his head back, arching up off the table as he screamed out Prowl name, not caring that the med bay was not in any way soundproofed.

Finally the electricity dissipated and their cooling fans kicked in, trying desperately to pull heat away from overcharged systems. Prowl lay his head on Ratchet’s chest and vented heavily, holding the medic close and running weak fingers over his sides.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought that on?” Ratchet asked, his voice an exhausted whisper.

“Bad meeting with Prime,” Prowl replied. If Ratchet hadn’t known better he could have sworn he heard a sullen edge to Prowl’s tone. “Don’t ask. I can’t discuss it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Ratchet replied as he wrapped his arms around the 2IC.

Prowl looked up at Ratchet, a question written in his optics.

“Laser welders do more than just fix mechs,” Ratchet replied smugly.


End file.
